Fallout: Project Manhatten
by Jakonen
Summary: After The Great War, Vault 121 was sealed in the Subway tunnels of New York City. Due to to the toxic surface and colapsing tunnels, The citizens of the vault have been trapped in the dark tunnels for 200 years without contact to the outide. Until now...


**First off, thank you all for reading this story. This will take place in the fallout universe but not specifically in any of the games. It may have some nods to any of the games as well as other franchises. This story takes place before, during and possibly after the events of fallout New Vegas.**

**I do not claim ownership of the Fallout universe or any of the games. **

_War, War never changes. It has been over two centuries since the old world burned. The world scorched as it was, however did not destroy mankind's resolve. As pockets of humanity emerged from the vaults that kept them safe; they formed communities, towns, cities, and even countries. The residents of vault 121 set out in the hopes of finding such civilization in the ruins of New York City. Time and time again they send out search parties from their settlements in the old subway tunnels, but the toxic marshlands of the surface and tunnel collapses have halted their exploration. It is here where our tale begins._

_/C: _

_Processing…._

_Data Retrieval Program Running. Please input retrieval directory _

_/Vault 121 Security Feeds: March 15, 2280/Conference Room B/runtime 0220 Pm+_

_Playing video…_

A table with empty coffee cups, papers, and cola bottles littering its surface came into view. Surrounding it were 6 women of varying degrees of old; ranging from middle age to should have died years ago. At the far end of the table the oldest looking woman wearing spectacles was flipping though a clipboard.

"Now to begin discussing the issues of this week's status meeting," Overseer Marilyn announced as she read the info on the clipboard in her hand.

"We have lost contact with multiple scout teams that traveled through the northbound tunnels. All tunnels leading there have caved in. Reserve teams going through the auxiliary tunnels have come back with their numbers halved and the survivors unfit for another try." She continued giving a nod to a middle aged woman in a maintenance outfit. The woman began reading a status sheet

"People and pets have gone missing. There is still no contact with settlements other than our own. Last contact with outsiders was with the group of nomads that settled with us. Our supplies of food, water, and other necessities are good; however parts and useable equipment are running low. We have resorted to jury rigging equipment. Our defensive capabilities are extraordinarily low. We have more guns than we have bullets for." Head Mechanic Judy relayed. The overseer nodded and took the floor again.

"In short, we need to find what happening to our people, find more useable equipment and find some civilization other than our own but have no able do it. Anyone have suggestions?" The overseer looked over the meeting. The security officer at the other far side of the table leaned forward.

"We do have one person who can and would do it." Chief officer Elizabeth said.

"Who?"

"Prisoner 2-S-5 is qualified to carry out this mission" Murmurs in the meeting room erupted at the word 'Prisoner' until the overseer silenced them.

"What makes you sure he will do it?" raised eyebrows pelted the security officer with the query.

"He wants out, and we don't have many other viable options. If he understands the situation, he'll do it. Besides you're his god mother, he'll at least listen to you."Elizabeth replied.

_Video end… _

_Shutting down system…_

"… and that is why we need your help." The chief said to the figure in the bunk bed.

He had very short jet black hair which made his hazel eyes almost shine in contrast. His white skin reflected the light off the monitor he was watching. His build was athletic, six feet tall, 180 pounds. He had faint lines under his eyes, too many for his age.

"I have three conditions. Number one, I want a clean slate." His voice had a faint rumble to it but it wasn't deep.

"We can work that out when you finish," She replied, "the second term?"

"From my old quarters, bring be the footlocker labeled 'Essentials'," He requested

"We can do that" the chief replied.

"And finally, I want to speak with my parents." He finished.

"As a matter of fact, both of your parents are in West Station, which is where we are heading." The prisoner nodded at the response. He rose to follow them. Shackles were fastened to his hands and feet.

The security personnel led him through the vault, passing several other cells and a cute girl named Mary that he had the pleasure of knowing. After several minutes of walking and elevator rides the entourage had reached the vault gate.

Screeching metal tore the silence apart as the door opened. The group then walked through the gate to the Vault District. The town was made from a few subway trains and scrap metal with a bazaar in the middle of the station floor. Shops and houses stretched the tracks. A couple of kids were chasing a giant rat. A doctor was prescribing chems to a sick woman.

A small crane was lowering a train car onto the tracks. Two militia men stood at the tunnel entrance, equipped with rifles and armor made from scrap metal and football equipment. Swiftly working, the rail workers loaded luggage and equipment on to the car. Roaring to life, the car's motor started, the headlights illuminated the path beyond. The group boarded, making sure the prisoner was secured all the way. The car lurched forward as the militia saluted the group. They passed into the dark tunnels west.

After two hours, and several miles, of travel; the car screeched to a halt at West Station. Disembarking from the car, the entourage made its way to one of the train car houses at the far end of the station. The side of the car had the words Machiavelli Residence painted on.

The chief knocked on the door.

"Vault Security, We have someone that wishes to speak with you." The door creaked open slightly.

"Yes we received word he would be coming by. Send him in and only him." A woman told the officers. The prisoner smirked.

"There's no arguing with her, it's easier if you just do it." He said. The chief's brow furrowed.

"You have ten minutes or your back in the cell." He stepped inside a now open door. He sat down on a seat as two women sat in front of him, one with jet black hair and soft features, her clothes had 'Heather' sewn into the front of her clothes. the other with brown hair and a stern face. Nymph was sewn into her clothes.

"Hi mom, hi mom, it's good to see you again." He said to both of them.

"So what's this crazy mission about?" Nymph asked.

"If I do what they say I get released for good." He explained

"Yes, but why go? You've never even been outside of the Stations! They could be lying! You could die!" exclaimed the Heather.

"He's old enough to make his own decisions honey" the brunette put a hand on the other mother. "Besides, I have a feeling he would do just fine out there, I taught him all he needs to know about the outside world."

"I'll try to visit whenever I can." He calmly said.

"Just remember the Golden Rules" The Heather said pointing at him.

"Take every advantage you can get. Everything useful is advantageous when used right. Everything is useful. Introduce you to any girls I like." He smiled. His mothers leaned in, hugging him fiercely. He bid farewell to his parents and stepped outside the house.

The chief escorted him to the northern auxiliary tunnels. The guards unshackled him. With a thud they dropped the footlocker he had asked for next to him. A few moments later, Click! A pipboy 3000 was fastened to his arm.

"This pipboy has been modified with a transceiver, you will be able to radio us, however if you travel a mile or so away from here or if you end up on the surface, you will have to boost the radio signal. Your call sign is Duo, our call sign is Quinque. Radio us on the frequency labeled S when you have a significant update." She explained, pointing out the mechanisms to use the radio.

"Unfortunately because of equipment shortages, we can't give you a weapon. You're pretty resourceful, according to your file. We can give you a couple days worth of food and water, some medical supplies and a few other items you might find useful." A guard produced a backpack and placed it next to the footlocker. Sloshing canteens settled in the bag.

"I'll make do. Where should I go from here" Duo asked.

"Make your way through these tunnels. The most recent loss of contact was near 'Grand Central Station.' Find it, search the area for signs of our exploration teams, and then radio us." Duo nodded at the answer.

"And if I find any people from another settlement?" he asked.

"If they are friendly, radio back to us with coordinates. Trade with them; tell them about us if you think they will trade with us. If hostile… make them not hostile."

"Yeah, I get the idea." He replied.

The guards backed away before Duo pulled his things into the tunnel.

He popped open the combination lock on the footlocker. He pulled out a bomber jacket in lined with fake fur. He then pulled out a change of prewar clothes, a pair of goggles, and a few pictures. He put on the goggles and jacket. He stuffed the other items into the backpack and strapped it to him.

He found a cardboard box in his box. It opened up to reveal a revolver and some ammo, A Webley model 2050, double action firing with a break action reload system, chambered to fit .38 special rounds. He loaded and holstered the gun. He then pulled out a trench knife. 5 inch blade with a comfortable handle, modified with spikes on the guard so it can work like sharpened brass knuckles in a pinch.

Duo stood alone for a few moments. Looking around, he smiled. He was free, and he loved it.

**That's It for Chapter one! I hope you liked it so far. Please read and review! And to you Native New Yorkers out there, I apologize for any inaccuracies. **


End file.
